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Chapter 10: Lions
🕑 Added 2023-03-06 21:31:44 +0000 UTC“I think it’s this way,” Jude said, pointing with one hand while the other clutched the map.
“I swear, if you lead us into anotherfire ant nest, I’m going to stab you,” retorted Glenny.
Just then, a gust of wind blazed across the savannah and kicked up plenty of dry, dead grass. Trying to shield his eyes, Jude’s grip on the map slipped. The parchment took to the wind, flying off far into the distance. Glenny and Leland stared at him.
“Seriously?”
“What? I can’t control the wind. How is that my fault?”
“Remind me why we let him take the map,” Leland asked.
“Because he wanted to ‘prove them pickpockets wrong,’ or something,” Glenny answered, his hand plastered across his face.
“Yeah, well, he sure showed them.”
Jude grumbled something while crossing his arms. With a powerful first step, he continued the trek through the tall grass in the direction he had pointed. The others shrugged, following as well.
“Sorry we didn’t get to hunt any monsters,” Leland said to Glenny. “I hope you are feeling better.”
“It's okay, I just don’t want to run into that Onryo guy again—” Glenny cut himself off, holding up a hand.
His ears twitched, his Legacy heightened senses activated. Abruptly the Lord of Chameleons turned invisible, nothing more than a shimmer. Over the trip to Liontrunk, he and Jude had progressed their abilities as well, thus opening more possibilities for the team.
“Jude!” Leland called ahead to the sulking brute. “We’ve got company. In the grass I think!”
The Berserker Lord’s eyes widened, a wide smile forming just like the battle axe he carried. The weapon came out already covered in blood as the owner purposely didn’t clean the sharp blade. With a powerful jump, Jude launched himself to Leland, donning his weapon in a guarded position.
“Where?” he asked.
“Not sure, but since Glenny randomly disappeared and there are plenty of hiding spots in the tall grass, I’m guessing there.”
The voice of Glenny appeared from their side, “All around us. In a circle. Prepare yourselves, I’m going to strike first.”
Leland counted in his head, One, two, three, four, fiv—
The sound of metal against bone pulled his attention. A splatter of blood erupted from the high grass like a volcano, blood and viscera falling down in demented rain. Leland smiled at his friend’s newest ability, but found movement to his right.
Grimoire in hand and magic in the other, with a snap he whispered, “Fracture.”
The hidden charging monster fell with a loud pop, only a trail of bent grass as evidence.
“Fracture,” he said again, another crack sounded.
From next to him, a whirling battle axe flew past. Not a heartbeat later, Jude let out a cry of battle, jumping to his weapon. With a guttural pull, he yanked his axe from the beast’s still warm body, spilling its guts out into the grass.
It was then that Leland saw what they were fighting. It was exactly as they were hoping, Mana Lions.
A red crescent streak blasted from Jude’s axe, shearing the nearby underbrush, creating a flat area. Leland quickly moved to the safe haven, magic pooling against his lips. A whisper cut across the battlefield as a flock of five blue crows cut into reality.
They took to the skies, encircling once before dive bombing a line of downed grass. A feral roar sounded from the lion, battling against the cawing of the crows. The beast swiped at its assaulter, cutting the grass down but failing to kill the pesky birds.
“Fracture.”
“Fracture.”
“Fracture.”
“That’s some spell you’ve got there!” Jude called out, his face misted with blood. He gripped a lion by its mane, hoisting its broken form for all to see. “I didn’t even get to fight it! It just suddenly crumbled!”
Again, a volcano of blood launched monster bits into the air, then the voice of Glenny spoke up, “Stop messing around, Jude. Just put the darn thing out of its misery.”
Jude complied, stabbing his trusty axe into the monster’s spine. He dropped the beast when a thick paw and set of sharp claws cut across his back. He stumbled forward, his blood wet boots failing to find traction. As he fell, Leland’s eyes widened.
The knowledge came to him as his grimoire skipped to the page of his newest curse. Power and magic came to mind, pumping around his heart like artificial adrenaline. He felt his heart skip a beat as the powerword came to mind.
“Slow,” Leland whispered, a pulse of mana shooting from around his heart.
The curse came with a trail of purple, one that connected Leland and the attacking lion. For a moment he felt empowered, raw, and enraged. His eyes reflected his opponent’s, turning into long slits. He wanted to maim, he wanted to kill, he wanted to—
The spell’s effect ended, pulling Leland back to his normal calm self. He blinked a few times, the pace matching his heartbeat. As both lowered, he watched the afflicted lion struggle to move. It trudged through the cut grass, moving towards its prey without even looking at Leland.
Despite Jude just reaching his feet, Leland pressed the advantage. “Fracture,” he whispered, quickly followed by. “Maim.”
The murder of crows had disappeared from the battlefield at some point, their one minute timer having long run its course. They came in mid divebomb, dropping onto the exhausted lion with sharp talons and pointed beaks. The lion didn’t last much longer.
Jude scurried up to Leland, the trance of the Lord of Berserkers having fallen. “Thanks for the save. New spell?”
Together they watched another volcano of blood erupt a few dozen paces away.
“Yeah,” Leland said. “It's weird though… I’m going to need to test it a few more times.”
Jude nodded to that. “My new ability throws my weapon. I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m unprotected until I get it back.”
“Just get a second axe then. That way you will always have at least one.”
Fireworks went off in Jude’s mind, his wide eyes reflecting the show. “That’s a great idea!”
Glenny eventually found the resting duo. He was caked in blood, allowing the others to easily spot him despite still technically being partially invisible.
“I really hope the rank ten version of this ability helps with this,” Glenny said, his head down and looking at his dyed torso.
Neither Leland nor Jude had an answer for him, but they nodded along at his wishes.
“By the way, why do they call these things Mana Lions? They don’t seem very magical,” Jude asked.
Leland answered. “Ah. Because their organs have a great concentration of mana in them. I also heard a rumor that the boss of Liontrunk’s dungeon could use magic or something. Seems a bit farfetched to me, though.”
Glenny slicked his hands down his chest, rocketing blood at the ground and the other’s boots. “Sorry,” he grimaced. “But yeah, let’s hope we never run into one of those.”
“The price for its organs would be great, however.”
“Yeah, keep dreaming.”
He hid in the grass, watching, waiting, running. His blood remained cold despite the warm air, his thoughts remained frozen on his one goal. The dungeon. It would house him until its core ran dry, it would house him until the Inquisitor team searched the city. They would leave, and eventually he would come out.
Then he could back track to one of his safe houses.
A burning sensation blazed on his cheek, the mark of the Witch making its presence known. Someone, he knew, was activating their Lord’s ability. Someone was tracking him through the mark. But there were rumors in his line of work. Rumors of powerful items and spells, the kind unsavory individuals would kill for.
He saw two chances. One, find his stashed money and buy the treatment or artifact. Two, receive the artifact from completing the dungeon. Either way, he was going in solo.
Unless.
A commotion at the dungeon entrance caused him to sit and wait. A bumbling young Master and his entourage of one argued with the poor Guild representative. It seemed the dungeon was strictly off limits, much to the disdain of the noble heir.
The petty argument was growing old, the man mused. But soon the entrance would be under the cover of darkness, so the man sat and watched the show. He especially enjoyed it when the bodyguard grunted at his Master’s words, obviously hating every second of their travels together.
Then a string of words caught his attention.
“Do you not know who I am?” the boy asked the Guild guard theatrically. “I am Master Zayd Onryo of House Onryo! You will let me through at once!”
A smile unmatched by even the strongest lions appeared on the Witch’s face. His eyes narrowed at the son of the House who stole his home. The family that ratted on his organization, the family that killed all his brothers and sisters.
A chuckle found the back of his throat while those at the dungeon entrance found him. He walked out of the brush, his “W” tattoo prominently on display. Cold exhaust fell from his wide maw as icy power flowed through his veins.
It was time to take revenge.
